


All Inside Your Head

by TheOneAndOnly1993



Category: Inside Out (2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4643790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOneAndOnly1993/pseuds/TheOneAndOnly1993
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amidst a party intended to celebrate Riley's successful and healthy childhood, trouble stirs. One by one the Emotes each must come to terms with the increasingly-difficult task of being Riley's Emotions, and the psychological hardships that come with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sadness: Lonely

" _There are moments when we all become someone else. Something other than what we are. It takes only a moment. But we spend the rest of our lives looking back at that moment in shame," - Delenn, Babylon 5, S05 The Wheel of Fire_

**_All In Your Head_ **

_By TheOneAndOnly1993_

* * *

**Sadness**

Anxiety and pure, unabashed joy roiled in Riley Anderson's belly as she took another two steps up the ramp, getting ever so closer to graduating high school.  _Pomp and Circumstance_ blared from the symphonic band, mixing in the air with the cheers and applause of individuals in the gathering of hundreds.

"George Adrande," the Superintendent read, resulting in cheers and shouts of "Adrande!" from the boy's many friends as he walked up the stage, leaving Riley exposed from the front.

Her hands shook in excitement as George spoke some words of gratitude with the various department heads onstage. From the corner of her eye, Riley spotted the ocean of scarlet that was the color of her class's gowns, the primary color of George Washington High School. She knew that out there, in the bleachers set up behind her class of over two-hundred, sat a good chunk of her family; her family, who had come from virtually every corner of the country to watch their little hockey prodigy reach the starting line of adulthood: Dad, who shared her first drink with her on the front porch just a few nights ago, and Mom, who was most definitely asleep before the alcohol was broken out that night (Dad triple checked to make sure), whose somewhat-coddling nature was somewhat overbearing, but, in this moment, it did not matter; she was Riley's mother, and she never would have gotten this far without her. And then there was Grandma and Grandpa, aunts, uncles, cousins large and small, even Riley's favorite, Bonnie.

They were all here, to see Riley. And they would probably scream louder than any of her friends could hope to match.  _That is, if they aren't bawling their eyes out,_ quipped a sarcastic but well-meaning voice inside her head. The brief flash of potential embarrassment was immediately overcharged with overwhelming joy-slash-anxiety-stomach-pains again.

Oh, did Riley's heart threaten to leap out of her chest. On most days she always felt anxiety was an annoyance, a panic attack waiting to happen, but not on this day. Today, it was a good feeling. Today, she reveled in the butterflies swarming like angry hornets in her belly. Because Riley was walking up to that stage a child, and will step down it a high school grad, practically an adult, with honors and an opportunity to compete in college ice hockey.

A familiar jingle brought her back to reality: she heard the Superintendent, his tone just as formal as with the kids before her. "Riley Anderson," the jingle went.

The roars from her scarlet-clad friends were almost thunderous to her ears. "Anderson!" they screamed. "Riles! RILENATOR!"

Riley could hardly contain her joy any longer, it was a veritable bomb just waiting to be set off. She was only at the top of the ramp, hadn't even received her diploma in that moment, when Riley punched the air and made some warlike noise like she just scored the winning goal in a hockey game.

A smile showed off nearly every straight, white tooth in her mouth as Riley paced across the stage and received her diploma from the Superintendent. "You must be very happy," he noted, smiling earnestly and shaking her hand. "Congratulations."

"Thanks!" she replied. She did the same with the Mayor and GWHS's principal, Ms. Harper. On most days Riley never liked the crow-like woman, with her hooked nose and vicious stare that always seemed to be looking for an excuse to yell at someone. But Riley grinned and shook her hand anyway, and the old woman smiled back.

As Riley's last name started near the beginning, it was a long wait before everybody had their diplomas and the Superintendent congratulated everybody on their success, and wished them luck one final time in the future. When the cue was given, everybody cheered, and the burnt-orange sky filled with crimson graduation caps.

Riley spent an hour plodding through crowds that only seemed to enlarge as time went on, rather than shrink, as the two hordes of family and grads converged, and later the faculty joined in as well. She made sure to see every one of her hockey mates, teachers, and virtually any person she ended her high school career with on good terms. The five minute walk back to her San Francisco home ended with an ambush of well-wishes, hugs, and kisses from various family members, and well past midnight they drank and ate and toasted in Riley's name. She received a couple thousand dollars in checks to put into her bank account, the most noteworthy of the bunch being from her Grandma Agatha, a nice heavy thousand.

_Can't wait for Mom to force the inevitable writing of thank you cards,_ muttered a bitter voice inside her head, followed by a disgusted,  _Like we're still in the Stone Age._

But the negative thoughts were quelled when dessert was brought out, and the celebration continued.

After the family slowly trickled back to their various hotels, Riley showered and hopped into bed. The glow of her phone lit the darkness a pale blue. The teen played around with it a bit, updating her status with a picture of her in her graduation outfit with her family when she first got home, captioned,  _"FREEDOM 2022!"_ She went to sleep, a content smile on her face.

Inside her head, the screen went dark, and the ensuing silence was only briefly lived before it was shattered by a bout of five individuals cheering and clapping their hands together. "Oh my GOD!" gushed Joy. Her black graduation gown twirled about her ankles as she bounced around the room. "That was the greatest moment of our LIVES!"

"And we didn't get a heart attack!" Fear tossed his cap into the air, and actually managed to catch it. He grinned at his accomplishment, and gestured with it, "That alone makes this a day worth remembering."

"Oh be quiet," tutted Disgust. She was twirling a lock of green hair around her finger. "Today's Riley's special day," her smile was melancholy, "nothing bad would have happened. Nothing."

"And that's because I made sure nothing did!" Fear said rather smugly, rubbing his knuckles into his gown.

While the pair delved into their typical quibbling, Sadness shuffled over to the Memory Racks and strolled along side them, scanning the primarily yellow-flecked-with-purple orbs. A little smile adorned her face that hasn't left since early afternoon, though it almost did when Dad gave the heartfelt speech after dinner that he wrapped up with tears glistening in his eyes; the corners of her mouth almost sagged when she thought of the new Core Memory, blue flecked with gold.

His words still echoed in her mind, haunting her, terrifying her. She purged them from her mind as best she could, which proved an easy feat once she came across a particular memory orb.

"Here it is," she said, trying to reach up to the memory, but even the elevation of her tiptoes offered no success.

"I gotcha kid," said a gruff voice from behind. "Up we go!" Sadness yelped a little as she felt someone dive down between her feet and pick her up by her ankles. She wobbled a bit, then looked down and realized that Anger was beneath her, gazing up to her with one of his big toothy smiles, the rare kind that didn't have an ounce of malevolence in their output. Sadness smiled at him gratefully before reaching over with ease and plucking the golden orb, the one that shone almost as brightly as a Core Memory.

Sadness had to squint her eyes to keep from going blind while viewing the memory. Within the orb, Riley was pumping her fist in the air and hollering. Sadness chortled lightly. "It's so beautiful, isn't it?" After being set down by Anger, she gestured it to the others as they gathered around her, their gowns swirling about their ankles in a whirl of shimmering charcoal. For a brief spell they all beheld its beauty, not only in the orb and its brilliance but the memory it contained.

They watched Riley pump her fist in the air again, faintly hearing her cry of triumph. No one gave protest as Joy traced her finger across its surface, bringing it back to when the Superintendent called her name.

Joy rubbed a hand across her eye. "Our baby's all grown up," she said. The others all nodded in agreement, their smiles bright and broad.

But soon the orb's luster proved too much for one Emotion's delicate eyes. "You'd think that would have been a new Core Memory, but no, it was actually  _Dad's speech,_ " said Disgust. At the mention of it, Sadness felt a phantom's hand squeeze her heart in a death-grip. But to hear it from  _Disgust,_ despite seeing what happened earlier...

Sadness couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. But she's not one to brush this off like Joy, or be confrontational like Anger. It just wasn't in her nature. So Sadness simply bit her lip and looked up from the memory with everybody else, and found Disgust already strolling over to the Core Memory Capsule, twirling a green lock of hair around her finger.

"Oh boy, yeah, let's see the new Core Memory!" said Joy. She and the others followed Disgust to the center of the room, with Sadness noticeably behind.

"Can't believe Dad decided to actually tear up in front of everybody," sighed the green Emotion. "I mean he's great and all, but he's a  _grown man_ for God's sake. It's not like Riley's going off to war (and thank God for that)."

Joy hopped over to the other side from where the capsule rose, hands clasped in front of her. "I think it was sweet," she said. Disgust only huffed with a roll of her eyes.

Sadness frowned; Disgust has been rather snippy all evening. While she wasn't acting fairly different from her normal attitude, still, today one would think she'd tone it down a little. Even Anger was smiling a lot, and the thought of that made Sadness smile too, in spite of the darkness in the back of her mind.  _Today was such a good day for him,_ she thought, her heart rising.  _He deserves it._

If Sadness wasn't so happy for Riley and Anger, oh boy, she just  _knew_ she could probably muster up a scowl! But even with those things in mind her face just slunk into its typical sad-softness as Disgust pulled the Core Memory Capsule up from the floor, where it housed several marbles glowing a myriad of two or even three colors. She gestured to the newest addition: a swirl of gold and blue that rivaled 'Starry Night' in terms of beauty. Within its glass chassis, Dad was silently mouthing a speech with a raised glass of wine in hand to the rest of the table.

"That other Core Memory was around for a long time," said Fear. "You think it got sent to Long Term Memory?"

"Yes." Immediately Sadness regretted that; everybody turned to her, giving the teardrop curious and disconcerted looks.  _Oh, why did I have to blurt that out really quickly?_ "Well, they all do," Sadness answered timidly, looking at them like it were totally obvious and that they have no reason to be looking at her like that. "Even the first set of Core Memories have all made it to Long Term."

Disgust shrugged. "Eh, they're probably all in the Memory Dump by now."

A phantom spear lanced Sadness's chest. "Y-Yeah." Sadness, of all people, was actually shooting the green Emotion frequent looks of disgust, or at least, as disgusted as Sadness could manage; she primarily just appeared disappointed, not that it mattered, as Disgust didn't catch any of them.  _You saw how I reacted,_ thought Sadness, remembering Disgust's brief flash of sympathy for her friend when the memory was replaced.  _Why are you bringing this up?_

Joy went down on her knees, so she was eye-level with the new Memory. She pressed her face to its glass, akin to a child at an aquarium. "Pretty neat how they can just replace old Core Memories to keep charging the same Island of Personality. They're like batteries!"

Disgust folded her arms, gazing out towards Family Island. "Sure is," she drawled.

That reaction made Sadness frown; she had her suspicions, but now it seemed definite that something was clearly irritating Disgust today. She briefly considered leaving the prissy Emotion to her own problems, but the brief flash of guilt Sadness felt at even tossing the idea around in her head made her shun the notion completely.  _I'll have to talk to her at some point tonight, hopefully at or after the party._

Joy rolled the Core Memories along their track, looking at all the different colors and combinations from each with wonder. When she returned to the newest edition, Joy turned her gaze to the green Emotion, giving her a wry smile. "We gotta get you to make another Core Memory sometime, Disgust. I don't know  _how_ , but we will!"

Disgust shrugged, appearing indifferent. "Eh, it doesn't really matter. Besides, what's Riley going to be so  _disgusted_  by that it becomes a Core Memory? She's a big girl now, after all."

Joy giggled. "You're right," she said, then her eyes brightened. "Hey, maybe if she meets a  _giant spider_  in the woods, and the experience makes her become some kind of exterminator..."

Disgust held up a hand, rolling her eyes. "Ugh, Joy,  _please,_ " she snapped rudely. "That's horrible, not to mention literally  _impossible_. Come on, a giant SPIDER? That's the stuff of children's novels."

Joy shrugged, smiling good-naturedly. "Hey, it could happen! Never say never, Disgust!"

"It'll  _never_ happen, Joy. Grow up." Disgust gave her a hard look, which didn't seem to phase Joy in the slightest and she knew it. She gave up almost immediately. "Come on, gang," she said, walking up the ramp. "Let's get ready for the party. It's time to be  _fabulous."_ She finished with a flick of her hair.

Joy hopped up to her feet, smiling broadly. "She's right, everybody! We're on a schedule, the Train of Thought leaves in an hour!"

* * *

The five Emotions all ascended the ramp to their living complex and strolled down the hallway, most of them chatting in anticipation of the coming night. One by one they each slipped into their color-coded doors, until it was just Sadness in front of her blue door.

Her lonely blue door.

Sadness shivered and pushed through, making sure to lock it behind her. Then she turned and shrugged out of her graduation outfit, her sweater and sweatpants still worn underneath.

Her room was as immaculate as it has always been: bed made, sleeping gown folded at the end, nightstand organized with a box of tissues on one side of the lamp and her glasses' case on the other, set beside a glass of water to drink before she went to sleep, the shelves of holo-books made from every novella and picture book Riley has ever read were shelved by category and in alphabetical order. The one irritant in the room that ruined its perfect picture was the wastebasket in the corner piled high with crumpled up tissues, but it was always like that.

Blue dominated the color scheme, as it happened to be Sadness's favorite color. Blue was associated with sorrow and crying. Sadness liked crying. Crying was simple to her, it was a call for help, it led to happiness, which was always better than bottling it up and being miserable. Crying was pure, it was honest. It helped slow things down and gain some perspective on life's problems.

This was something Sadness desperately needed at the moment.  _I need to cry,_ she told herself.  _I need a good cry to think about this._

As she walked by it, Sadness plucked a tissue from the box on her nightstand. Tears blurred the next time she blinked, and the second time after they slid down her rounded cheeks. Sadness sniffled, quietly relishing in the sharp sound echo in the stillness of her room. She lifted her glasses and dabbed the tissue on each eye.

Sadness wasted no time as she mentally asked herself, "What's bothering me?"

Dad's speech flooded her mind, his words echoed in her ears.

A sob shuddered Sadness's body.  _That speech was so beautiful, too beautiful,_ she thought, another sob bursting from her lips. She gasped on a third, wiped her eyes, like clockwork.

The beauty of Dad's words soon lost their dazzle though, as Sadness's reflections on the meaning behind them shrouded and hugged her like a dark cloak.

_"We're always growing up,"_ he said.  _"Even after we think we've settled down, found a balance in life, a job and a family, our lives are still growing and changing with every new experience. Our tastes may change, our personalities may change, what we dislike could be our favorite thing in the world next year while our current is looked back on with disgust. We make new friends while losing old ones, distant relatives could be just that, a name and nothing more. But we'll never forget who we used to be, our memories, those are what stay with us forever, no matter how hard we try to forget. Even if, say, twenty years from now, my little girl is a completely different woman from the one sitting with us, she'll always be the same to me, she'll always be my monkey, my little girl."_

Sadness wept openly, from the hard truth of his words or the honest, somber tone he spoke with, she didn't know which hurt the most.  _He's right,_ she thought.  _We always thought things would stay the same, but we learned with the move that people change all the time. Even Riley._

_Even friends._ Sadness bit down on her fist to keep from sobbing too loudly; she didn't want Fear next door to hear, even though she has cried louder than this and never received a single visit from any of her friends.

_My friends,_ she echoed.

_"We make new friends while losing old ones,"_ Dad had said.

This wasn't a new lesson for Riley though; all throughout high school her friends faded in and out, and she knew that some of them she might never see again after today. This was a lesson of life that Riley learned the hard way, when they moved to San Francisco.  _It's still so_ _depressing,_  thought Sadness, sniffling.  _"_ _B_ _ecause why would you just throw away years of friendship just like that!?"_

She clamped her mouth shut, though tears still poured silently down her cheeks, around her hands.  _I just yelled that out loud._ She listened tensely for any signs of footsteps approaching her door, the creak of the hall outside or the light dancing in the crack beneath her door. But the hall was silent and the light still, and so Sadness collapsed into another bout of weeping into her tissue.

What bothered Sadness the most was when Riley saw an old friend she always talked to a year ago, had the same class as her, and yet they would never speak a word to each other all year, even though they saw one another every single day! It was like they changed and grew up into different people or something.

_What if we're like that?_ Sadness thought. Her heart tightened.  _What if we all grow up at some point and just stopped liking each other?_ Of course work will always keep the Emotions together, but what if their contact ends there? What if everybody gains interests of their own, and then chooses to keep interaction to a minimum? Immediately Sadness thought of one of those stuffy cubicle jobs where nobody talks to each other and they're all miserable and depressed. Was this the future that is potentially awaiting them?

The fear made Sadness bawl aloud, and shudder with every gasping breath after. She didn't want that future, she just got everybody to like her and accept her and be her friend. Now they're all going to start growing up and splitting apart?

_Would we even be real about it?_ she wondered. She imagined Fear making some excuse, like work got more important as Riley became an adult.  _Would Joy make an effort to keep us together? Will Anger just shove his face into a newspaper, not saying a word to anybody? Who would be the one to admit that we're not compatible anymore?_

It was another blow to lose their first,  _her_ first, mixed Core Memory. Remembering it being shot out of Headquarters and into some random place in Long Term Memory brought forth another round of sobs. Sadness loved that memory like Joy loved her first ones, and though the pessimist in her knew it would one day be gone, and even fade, to actually see it happen made Sadness feel like she lost something inside. It was also the cornerstone of her and Joy's friendship. It was the moment that she finally became accepted by Joy, it was when Riley came to terms with the move, all because of her, and together they made something special that symbolized Riley's growth and encompassed this new understanding.

Joy would be telling Sadness that it's just a memory, and that they'll always have it on hand if she wants to Recall it. But to Sadness, Dad's speech was like an omen by replacing that mixed Core Memory.

_"We make new friends while replacing old ones,"_ he said.

_But I don't have new friends to make,_ thought Sadness.  _And we might not be friends forever._

Sadness breathed in deep, shutting her eyes, and exhaled, long, slow, and shuddering. She looked down at the crumpled tissue in her little hands, then licked a bit of it and dabbed the tear tracks sticking to her cheeks. She sighed again, glancing at her slippered feet.

_I'm going to try,_ she told herself.  _I'm Sadness, I bring family together. That's my job, that's what I do for Riley and I WILL do for us. I promise._ To whom, she did not know. But her mind promised, even though her heart still was weighed heavy and doubtful.

Sadness looked over to her right; a turquoise sequin dress, belt, and teardrop-shaped hairclip was lain out across her bed. Looking at it, her heart rose ever so slightly. Shyly, warmly, for the hundredth time, Sadness smiled.  _Tonight is supposed to be fun,_ she thought.  _I'll try not to bring everybody down. I'm going to keep everybody together, or cry trying._

Sadness actually tittered lightly at her own joke. As Joy always said, sometimes, you need to laugh at yourself.

* * *

**I want to note for anybody confused (though it will be clarified in the next chapter): The party is going to involve everybody who works in Riley's mind, it is a celebration for Riley's graduation. No one has Dream Duty tonight, Riley is going to be getting a good night sleep.**

**So yeah, decided to hop on here and see what the folks on this site thinks of this little tale. My main goal with this story is to make the characters feel like layered individuals. Hopefully I get that right!**


	2. Disgust: Relevance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can a lone Disgust find purpose in the life of a roughhousing tomboy?

**Disgust**

Disgust pondered for weeks on what she should wear to this party. It had to be something fabulous while simulatenously tasteful. It couldn't make her look like a strumpet, but still turned some heads and made her the center of attention. Then, it struck her: classy. But it had to be alluring, too; seductive in a way. She and Riley always had an affinity for the 1950s, the ritzy folk that neither of them could ever hope to be, but fantasized about on a daily basis. Disgust spent almost an entire week in Imagination Land during Riley's first obsession with the style.

Her smile faltered slightly at the memory.  _A whole week there,_ she thought.  _A whole week of me not at the console._ Disgust shook her head; it was unbecoming of a lady to be moping over the "what was", after all.

It was a good week, besides. It was where Disgust got her inspiration for Joy's gown and Sadness's, but most of all her own. She spent a great deal of time chatting with a newly-created resident, a grown woman in a dress strikingly similar to the one she wore tonight. She had thick waves of flowing blonde hair, a full bust, and perfect, white teeth. A turquoise masquerade face mask, bordered by gold lace and crusted around the eyes with pearls and turquoise studs, concealed her identity. It lacked a string to fasten it, though its shape fitted against her's as though it were molded just for her own face.

The woman said her name was Riley, but Disgust knew it wasn't really her.

Though this fantasy's dress was what inspired Disgust to model her's after, and make it a realty for all to adore. The dark green was a color picked of her own desire, but it matched her hair and complimented it nicely. As for footwear, she knew she would regret high heels, and Disgust wasn't an animal like Joy, to go barefoot once the dancing started and get her feet all dirtied and gross. So Disgust opted for the more practical green slippers, similar to her dress in color. Not that anybody would notice what she was wearing on her feet, as they would be too busy eyeing the amount of leg she was showing: one uncovered, fully exposed from where the gown split open at the hip. To complete the look, Disgust wore a necklace of pearls, coming to an emerald chiseled into a "D".

Satisfied with herself in the mirror, Disgust reached over to her bed and wrapped a spring-green shawl around her upper arms. With a few tugs to make sure it was even, Disgust stood in front of the mirror, smiling proudly with both hands on her hips.  _Beautiful,_ she thought.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Disgust briefly wondered if she looked a little  _too_ risque. Then she shook her head, a confident smile back on display. No, she showed just enough to entice the mind and make them ask for more.

The thought made her wince.  _Who's "them"?_ she wondered, and suddenly she was looking at the girl in the mirror with aversion, a vague sense that this was somebody deplorable. Someone with tangled, knotty hair, hanging dully like swamp grass and lacking its typical bounce. Someone with pallid cheeks and chapped lips, eyelashes crooked instead of curved. Amidst all the chaos, only the eyes were familiar, bright and green, criticizing her with their beauty and single, arched brow.

Disgust shook her head again. "You're taking yourself too seriously, girl." She had a relaxed smile on her face.

It almost seemed a little relieved.

"Just have fun tonight," she told herself, then added with a snicker, "And wow the crowd, of course."

Disgust spent a few more minutes applying some blush, orchid lipstick, and making sure there wasn't a single hair out of place with a brush and eyelash curler. Enough hairspray and perfume filled the air of her bedroom to choke a normal human being. Which probably explained why, as Disgust was giving herself a once over in the mirror, she noted that her cosmetics were beginning to run low again.

 _Those stupid Train of Thought guys are giving me a smaller makeup stock every time,_ she thought bitterly. No way was Disgust just using her makeup too often. Once, she was able to make them last a month, nowadays it was only maybe two weeks tops.

 _I'll find Moriarty at the party, the little cheapskate._ The ratty little Mind Worker filled her with revulsion. With a snarl, Disgust fluffed her hair a few more times, aggressively lifted the front of her dress, and readjusted her shawl before storming out of her room.

* * *

Disgust realized that she was, for once, not the last person down who had kept everybody waiting.

Anger was on the couch, reading a newspaper of  _The Mind Reader_ headlined,  _'Graduated (Finally): Riley's Mind Celebrates'._ Sadness hunkered beside him, pouring over a mind manual. Joy sat on the ground behind the couch, bobbing her head to some tune she was humming while  _ruining that lovely dress!_

The dress that Joy would wear tonight was much more elegant and, might Disgust say, sensuous in comparison to that garish sundress she wore day in and day out. It was just as long, barely brushing past her knees, but whereas a bright and sunny green skirt fell, now it was a powerful, fiery burnt-orange. Tonight, when Joy would twirl around, the skirts would spin and whirl around her, shimmering, dancing, akin to a wildfire that never went out. Much like Joy's smile, which was complimented by a pair of jasper-cut earrings each erupting in a starburst. Around Joy's waist, a thin belt looped around and came to a buckle shaped like a "J", while the front of her dress came up and attached to a black ring around her neck, fastened tight enough to keep "everything together," as Disgust put it, the design left Joy's back exposed, which Disgust thought was a big step-up from her old dress. It's high time Joy started dressing up like a woman, and not a little girl.

 _She'll thank me later,_ Disgust predicted. Hoped.

She purged the thought from her head, telling herself that the way Joy was sitting was far more irritating, kneeling on the ground and soiling it without any care. Disgust felt her particles bristle. "Joy, you're messing up your gown by sitting like that," she chided.

Joy looked up and instantly her face brightened with an ear-to-ear smile. "Disgust, oh my gosh!" She hopped up to her feet, which, Disgust dryly noted, were barefoot. "You look so beautiful! Way better than mine, seriously! I mean, mine is still  _a-may-zing_ , but your's is just...wow!"

 _That's the point,_ she sang in her head. When Disgust was designing her and her friends' dresses, she made sure they matched the Emotion's personality while, at the same time, having no chance of outshining her's. Not that they would. After all, being Disgust, her's had to be the most fabulous of them all.

Still, Disgust could never sneeze at a compliment, especially nowadays. She struck a pose, sticking her naked leg out, shawl wrapped around her arms. "I know, aren't I just amazing?" Joy nodded eagerly, while at the same time she heard a humored grunt from Anger.

Disgust turned in his direction, eyes narrowed. "Like  _you_  have any valued input on how I look?"

"Well," Anger folded the newspaper and tossed it on the coffee table, "I'm just gonna say that if I was your father, I wouldn't let you go out looking like that."

Somehow, those words cut into her chest rather deep.  _'If I was your father...'_   _Oh, shut up, you little blockhead!_ Disgust managed to catch herself before blurting out a kneejerk reaction. She put on an air of indifference. "Whatever. If this is going to be the only time we can dress up and be fancy until Riley's wedding or college graduation, then I'm going to make sure everybody remembers me."

"Yeah, I'm gonna wish I could forget this myself," quipped Anger, rolling his eyes.

Disgust snarled, her cheeks reddening, but she steeled herself again.  _You're not making this easy, you know!_

She took a deep breath, and sighed. "Well, manners rivaling the Gremlins aside, you look quite handsome, Anger."

The firebrick glanced down at suit, an appropriately ash-colored open jacket and slacks with a red tie, a big red "A" on his tie bar, and grinned back to her. "Aw, thanks doll-face. It's just something I threw together myself. I helped out Fear, but..." Anger's face froze, then slunk into a grimace. "Where is that little beanpole?"

Disgust sucked in a tiny bit of air, almost forgetting that that's who they were waiting for. Before she could throw in her own two cents, Joy jumped forward with, "Oh, he's just having a chat with the Boss, he'll be down in a sec." Her grin broadened, and she started pumping both fists into the air, saying, "Then we can get ready to PAR-TAY!"

Though cringing on the inside, she spared Joy an amused smile, as Disgust was adamant on getting herself into a bright mood. Yes, she drilled to herself, tonight is their night, it's going to be a wonderful soiree, and everybody will have a good time. She could see it now: Fear, kicking back with a drink in hand instead of a clipboard. Anger, with his coaching from Sadness, holding a conversation with someone that doesn't end in third degree burns and property damage. Joy, as per usual, acting shameless and embarrassing in front of strangers, but enjoying herself nonetheless. Sadness putting on a smile for once. Disgust getting what she wanted.

Though, at times, what that precisely was escaped her. But then she quickly recalled with a newfound confidence in her goal.

 _Confidence,_ the feeling echoed in her being. It was something that a certain blue Emotion lacked. When crafting her gown, Disgust had it in her mind to help Sadness not only look beautiful, but feel it as well. In her heart, she was still an introvert of sorts, and did not call for too much attention. It was nothing electrifying like Joy's, or fetching in the same provactive manner as Disgust's. Though she never spared a thought as to why, Sadness had always chosen for herself to live in everybody's shadow, rather than stand in the light beside them. But, as her gracious and supportive friend, Disgust chose to honor her choices.

The end result was better than she hoped. Far better.

The gown hugged Sadness's shapely figure rather tightly, but somehow, in a way only the teardrop could manage, it actually complimented her overall look. Disgust was always confounded with how Sadness could appear so beautiful with a body that anyone in a normal society would deem undesirable. The way she twinkled and shimmered with every little flinch, how her gown would catch the light all around made her seem like a turquoise disco ball. It fell to the tops of her little feet, where it appeared she had adopted a pair of matching sandals. How she would dance in those, Disgust wasn't sure, but then again, Sadness never was much of a dancer (or a mover for that matter). A belt of azure was cinched around Sadness's waist, coming to a buckle shaped in the likeness of a big "S". The dress looped around both shoulders, coming to a humble v-shape below her neck, looped by a string of white pearls. A little hair clip bearing a teardrop-shaped sapphire restrained the dark glittery hair that always hung over half of Sadness's face.

If Disgust were as socially inept and spastic as Joy, she would have squealed right then and there. She did it! She actually managed to transform the nerdy girl into something beautiful! This was just like one of those cliched high school prom movies Riley used to be fond of. Though, unlike those films, no one will really know it was Disgust unless someone advertised it for her. After all, most residents of Riley's mind don't have the time Disgust did to learn how to make dresses, let alone for other people. They just wore what they own. Because of that, everybody will think Sadness made her dress on her own.

 _Huh._ Disgust kneaded a sore spot in the center of her chest. Eager to take her mind off the dress, her eyes flitted back to Sadness, still seated at the end of the sofa, eyes wandering about Headquarters. Her face was aglow in a content smile. Disgust felt hot all of a sudden.  _She really is gorgeous,_ she thought.  _Inside and out._ In an instant, her mind turned into the Sadness Hall of Fame, recalling snippets of their years together, all of the kindness Sadness shared with her friends, all of the long hours she spent consoling others that could have been slept away, how there is not a single grudge-filled bone in her body. Everybody loves Sadness, Disgust thought you'd have to be a monster not to.

And of course, a beautiful person was just beautiful on their own. Sadness proved that right now, as Disgust looked on, seeing not a trace of make up enhancing her already-desirable appeal.

 _Not like me,_ Disgust thought, a titter caught in her throat.  _I have all this make up I have to put on every morning!_ Envy was unbecoming of Disgust. She was proud, she told herself, to know such a friend. Sadness was absolutely perfect, a naturally beautiful person. And such a wonderful Emotion for Riley, too! Their little girl became such an empathetic person ever since Sadness found her place among them. Moreso than Disgust, for sure. Disgust counted herself lucky if a day went by when she was even needed at all. As Riley got older and wiser, she also became much rowdier in her roughhousing. Not a lot of things seemed to gross Disgust out these days; snails and broccoli just seem like incredibly trivial things to be bothered by.

But that's her choice, of course. Riley is too old and too cool to find revulsion in such pettiness. Such changes were necessary for their girl's social life, after all. And Disgust wasn't the only Emotion who had to make sacrifices. While Riley was packing her childhood toys away in boxes, Fear was growing past his habit of being petrified at every possible disaster that could strike in any given moment. With this minor improvement in his life, Riley was able to be far more braver, and, in turn, more popular, while still being cautious when necessary. As a result, Fear became less of a hot mess, and he walked with his back straight. It did wonders for his posture. Especially since he started doing all that weird science junk he does with the Boss every now and then.

In Disgust's mind, Sadness, of course, was to thank for helping him, despite it being a team effort. Sadness was just good at talking to people, and she only got better as she got older.  _Though Fear's still a complete dork,_  Disgust thought with a hidden smile.

In much the same way as him, Disgust felt she really matured and wised up as Riley found her way through high school.  _And I did it all on my own,_ Disgust thought with smug self-satisfaction. By her own choice Disgust sacrificed time spent at the board unless it were actually necessary, which, quite honestly, wasn't often. There was the occasional unappealing slop served in front of Riley, or a loathsome individual she'd had the misfortune of meeting in school, but by and large Disgust's contributions, and lack thereof, made Riley a more relaxed and welcoming individual.

 _And it's all because of me,_ Disgust insisted.  _And I didn't even need that little thing's help._

It took a moment to process what Disgust had just thought. With realization, her words felt like bile in her nonexistent stomach. But on the other hand, oh, how Disgust loved to toy with Sadness earlier, rubbing in the loss of that stupid Core Memory she made all those years ago after almost running away. She flitted her gaze in her direction; Sadness was still on the couch, fingers laced together. Her head laid back and her eyes closed, it seemed like she were resting.

Beautiful and with no makeup, Disgust thought. The more those words echoed in her mind the more ridiculous they seemed. Everybody needed makeup to look beautiful, and squinting her eyes, Disgust could tell that Sadness would do with at least a little blush. Just a bit, of course, not enough that would cause her discomfort.

Warming with generosity, Disgust drew out her blush case from the front of her dress and approached the pudgy Emotion. "Sadness?"

Her eyes opened smooth like butter, then widened ever-so-slightly at her approach, so slightly that only someone like Disgust would notice. "Hello, Disgust," she said. "How are you feeling?"

 _She's thinking about earlier, I can tell,_ Disgust thought, eyeing in her peripheral the faint stitching in Sadness's brow. "I'm great," she boasted. Pausing, "You know Sadness, you wear that dress quite well. It  _does_  look gorgeous on you."

Sadness glowed to her praise. "Oh, heh, thanks Disgust. It really is beautiful-"

"Yes, I know, but I don't think the overall look is complete." She put a hand to her cheek and spoke in confidence, "Believe me, take it from someone who has to do this every single day." To her left, Anger grunted. She ignored him, and presented the makeup case. "My point is, I think you should put a little something on your face, just to bring out your color. Here, put some powder on, Sweetie. It'll help with-"

"I-I'm good, Disgust," Sadness quickly blurted. She put on an uneasy smile. "Thank you, but I'm fine."

Disgust pouted, and continued advancing with the case. "Awh, come on," she whined, "just a little bit. For me?" She playfully fluttered her eyelashes.

Now Sadness was frowning. "Disgust, please, I don't want any."

"I'm trying to help you."

"The kid said she doesn't want any," came Anger's growling voice.

Disgust ignored him, and now stood right in front of Sadness. The blue Emote was sinking into her chair, a look of aversion etched into her face. Her lips wobbled ever so slightly. "Disgust, stop it."

But Disgust now found her resilience as something that needed to be overcome. "Why are you so against it?" she snarled.

"I just don't want any," Sadness replied, a bit of force in her tone.

"You look like a sad little tramp without any makeup."

The moment those words came out of her mouth, Disgust regretted it. For the briefest of moments Sadness's face was stricken as if slapped, then she broke out crying into her hands half a heartbeat later. Joy was over in a flash, arms around her friend. All the while Disgust sensed the familiar weight of shame compressing her chest, but the feeling burned away seconds later into anger. At what, she didn't know. But now she was angry.

That half-pint construct of compressed atoms and electrons brimming with fire didn't help either. "Oh, now you've done it!" his voice snarled from her immediate left.

She whipped her head around, finding Anger standing on the couch in front of her, fists clenched. The extra height it gave made him slightly taller than Disgust, but no less insignificant in her eye. She snarled. "I was trying to help! God, I'm sorry, okay? That just came out wrong!"

"That doesn't matter! If she don't want makeup, she don't want makeup!"

"I'm trying to help!" Disgust insisted.

"She don't want your help!"

"Oh, shut up! Why won't you just let me help Ri-"

"Piss off!  _Nobody asked for you!"_

A nerve snapped. "Fuck you!"

Everything came to a screeching halt; Joy brought her hands up to her mouth, Anger stood wide-eyed, even Sadness stopped her crying, though tears still clung to her cheeks.

Disgust had never sworn so vilely before.

Her gaze frantically bounced to each of her three coworkers', trying to form a coherent sentence but the words sputtered and died on her lips. "I-I'm sorry, everybody, it's..." Disgust wracked her brain. "It's the stress," she said, feigning weariness. She put a hand to her temple for good measure. "I'm just stressed about college, it's been on my mind all afternoon." Lies, but they fell for it as if they've never known Disgust for a day in their life.

Then she spoke with sincerity. "I'm... sorry, Sadness" She turned, then slowly met her eyes. "I didn't mean that, what I said. You don't have to wear any of that crap if you don't want to. You look... great, without it."

Sadness wiped her cheeks. "It's okay." She offered a tiny smile in gratitude.

"I'd be lying if I didn't say college has been on my mind, too," said Joy. "I think we should put our heads together later on and do something about the stress, so that Riley can enjoy her last summer break to the fullest before college." No one responded to her idea, not that that would stop her. Joy will go and set it up anyway, of course. Disgust could already see herself sitting in that meeting, bored out of her mind, as if it were already a certainty.

When she looked to Anger, he simply huffed and rolled his eyes. Only then did she notice that over the course of their argument, his head never cracked and broke open in herald to his explosive bursts. Years ago, the couch would have been ashes by now. Then again, Anger would never risk his beloved sofa back then unless he was sure of its safety.  _At least Sadness reeled in that horrid temper of your's._

"Do you want to talk about it?" came a soft voice in her right ear.

Disgust turned in its direction, and found Sadness now standing in front of her at eye-level, offering a hand. She eyed it for a moment, then met her gaze with a grateful smile. It took less than a second of thought to come up with an answer, though presentation was everything. "Thank you, but I'm okay, Sadness. Really." She almost said,  _I don't need your pity._

Sadness nodded, respecting Disgust's answer. She was never one to pry.

It didn't take much longer after that for Fear to arrive, descending from the ceiling via round platform. For the party he was wearing a dark waistcoat with matching pants, a lilac tie and a light grey dress shirt underneath with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A violet "F" was pinned to his lapel. "Hey, gang. Sorry I'm late." He grinned, jutting a thumb behind him back at the platform ascending into the ceiling. "Heh, old Amygdala wanted a report on the graduation is all. Heh."

Joy shook her head. "Oh Fear, whatever you and the Boss wanted to talk about is strictly between you two."

"I wish it wasn't," muttered Anger, always weary of Amygdala's happenings with Fear. Though over the years he learned to accept that they were never working on anything he deemed important (Fear would always sputter and glare when he said that out loud), his suspicions still lingered. Disgust couldn't blame him; there's something untrustworthy about a face all but one was allowed to see, a voice only one could hear.

"Ah, yep. Just the usual daily report is all," Fear laughed, tugging at his sleeves. Disgust narrowed her eyes; Fear was acting dorkier than usual, and on closer inspection his particles appeared a little dim, even though he always seemed a bit off after meeting up with that thing in the Headquarters' secret floor, he never looked like this. Heck, he almost gave Riley an out-of-nowhere panic attack the day their unseen boss made itself known and he didn't seem so grey.

Yet with everything that just happened, and the party looming over their heads, she couldn't be bothered to mull over the happenings between Fear and that, as the nerve puts it, "monotonous fax machine."

"Are we all ready for this party?" she snapped.

Joy nodded. "Yep! We were just waiting on Fear. Come on, let's go!"

Of course their "Train of Thought" wasn't exactly the train itself, as it always shut down when Riley went to sleep. The recall tubes, on the other hand, were always active.

As they each got in line to stand underneath the tube, among the quiet chatter between her friends Disgust found herself the only one not talking to anybody. Disgust never minded being alone. It gave her time to do more important things, like think.

Her thoughts gravitated back to her earlier musings about Sadness. Already the pang of hurt she felt for beating the sensitive Emotion's feelings dissipated. Now she felt only disgust, for herself, and for everyone around her.

It was all a lie, she told herself.  _What's a lie?_ she asked herself back. It was the same disgusting lie she told herself, every moment, of every day, in all of her actions and reactions towards the others.  _What's a lie?_ The lie, the denial, that she wasn't in a well a self-pity. It was disgusting, yet she did nothing to change it. She never wondered why, why she never tried to. Perhaps some small, weak little part of her was too afraid to accept the truth that there was something wrong in the first place.

The truth.  _The truth._ She told herself and the others repeatedly that she never minded being away from the console. In truth, not a day went by when Disgust's heart didn't yearn for that connection with her little Riley, when her fingers itched to feel those buttons beneath them, her hand craving to squeeze a lever that would make her girl and herself reel back in disgust. Those were the days, she always thought. And though there was the occasional douchebag she and Anger would snap over, a small, sad part of Disgust hurt to know the reality of her life:

Riley barely needed her anymore.

By her own design, Disgust accepted and enforced this. Not because of stupid Joy, or that incredible and infuriating perfect little ball of Sadness, or the pile of copper wire and spare parts they called a Boss. It was all her choice, her sacrifice. It was a good thing, it was necessary. But then why did Disgust never feel right? The way the story always goes, the hero who makes the ultimate sacrifice lives a happy and satisfied life. If that were true, then how come she was never stupidly happy like Joy? How come she always felt so disgusted with herself?

Perhaps, if there was one thing that Disgust feared the most, one thing that made her furious, one thing that hurt so bad it made her want to cry bitterly into her hands, it was being irrelevant.

But that couldn't be it. Disgust was stronger than that. She was self-reliant. She was the reason why Riley had grown into an independent young woman. She should feel proud. And she couldn't just shed what little identity she had left and go crawling to help. It was far more preferable and dignified to grapple with this little bump in the road herself, than cry to Sadness like Joy or Fear, or be coached into a wet blanket like that blockhead Anger.

Disgust is stronger than all of them. She was determined to prove just that. Sadness, she can just go throw herself in the Memory Dump.

Disgust ignored the revulsion she felt thinking that. When she came back to reality, they were standing in front of Dream Productions. The party was already underway.

* * *

**This one was hard. I really, really hope you enjoyed this, and I didn't go overboard. I really wanted to make Disgust's struggle into something understandable and real. Please, tell me what you thought. I hope with this chapter, you'll see that each of the Emotions has something wrong with them that they need to overcome.**

**Oh, and the Boss, Amygdala? That's explained further in Fear's chapter. Unfortunately, his is last.**


	3. Anger: Management

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anger has gotten really good at controlling his temper. What's his secret?

**Anger**

_That crap Disgust pulled earlier was completely out of line,_ he quietly fumed. Anger refused to risk a sidelong glare at the prissy stick of broccoli, fearing that she might notice and start another fight.

 _And this time we might not be so lucky._ Anger winced as a crackle of flame whipped the inside of his nonexistent stomach. He grunted, actually thankful that the music and clamor radiating from Dream Productions was complete overkill.  _Dammit, dammit,_ he cursed, thinking of Disgust and how horrible she's been lately.  _Why am I still mad over this!? Dammit!_ His ruminations played themselves twice over, and on the third go the pressure Anger dug into his palms lightened, and his jaw slackened slightly.

Kick. Scream. Burn. It took a lot of willpower for Anger to abandon this train of thought, despite the urge to act on it was strong, and the idea so very enticing; drug withdrawal would be easier to ignore.

He tugged on the collar again, to alleviate some of the heat building underneath. He turned his mind back on the party at hand, which, despite these loud idiots, he anticipated to be a pleasant evening talking to someone other than his coworkers.  _It'll be fine,_ he thought, confidence swelling.  _I'll just stick to my kind of crowd and let the rest play itself._ Before long, an easy grin spread itself across his face, and thoughts of Disgust were locked in a far corner of his mind.

 _Sadness's lessons are really starting to pay off._ The thought made him chuckle bitterly.

But the fire drake was still raging, hissing, trying to get out. Anger winced with every lash of its tails. Even at a whisper, his voice was harsh as hot coals. "One, two, three, four," he roughly snapped his jacket, then ran his hands over to smooth it out, "five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten." He gave a drawn sigh, expelling the heat building within. Though his innards still felt like an inferno ready to burst. Just one lit match, and...

He had to force down the grimace, as Sadness appeared right beside him, glowing like a polished sapphire in that dress. Her eyes, gentle, unbiased, and impossibly empathetic, seemed to hold a smile in themselves that couldn't quite flex the muscles in her cheeks. Compared to his, hard, angry, avoiding direct contact like the plague, she was the veritable yin to his yang. "Are you excited, Anger?" she asked, but what she was really asking was,  _'Are you feeling okay?'_

He shrugged coolly, gripping the sides of his ashen jacket. "Yeah, yeah, just alotta people is all. I'll be fine once we actually  _get_  there."

Mercifully, that seemed to placate her. With a lamb's smile and a slight nod, she turned to engage in conversation with an overly-avid Joy (which meant, she listened to Joy as she yapped a hundred words a minute, only responding to nod every time her friend paused to take a breath). Guilt coursed through Anger and spread like a powerful toxin as he continued to watch her.

At least, the wildfire inside died to a smothering burn.

 _Fear,_ he thought abruptly.  _Where's Fear?_ In this moment, Fear, ironically, was the only one of his coworkers that didn't make him want to kick a chair.

He didn't have to look far; no more than a couple feet from the pair of friends, Anger noticed Skinny on his messaging device, typing something out.

 _The Boss, probably._ Anger felt the annoyance in his gut seethe with shared contempt. The Boss could go  _screw_ itself for all he cared.  _He's been working his ass off for that half-bit dishwasher! Give him a break!_ Anger marched on over to him, glancing briefly over his shoulder to find Sadness still "chatting" with Joy; he could barely hear his own boss over all the noise and music blaring a couple yards away from them.

 _Perfect._ Though she wouldn't see it, Anger looked to Sadness, stricken for the briefest of flashes, before gazing up to Fear, his face like stone.

 _Hope she doesn't see this if it goes down one way..._ "You gonna be on that all night, Pencil-neck!?" Wrong as it felt now, Anger had always relished in raising his voice to such obscene levels, the rush of energy that drove his particles into a sizzling, snapping dance, like grease ready to jump out of the frying pan.

He loved it as much as Fear hated it. He would always yelp like a little sissy and drop what he was holding whenever Anger yelled at him, no matter the reason. Once, he even let his cup of coffee go crashing to the floor when Anger screamed an offer for a refill from the kitchen. That was pretty funny. Anger was hoping he would achieve the same effect now, and if the phone didn't break, well, the Memory Dump is just five feet away, and he has one hell of a throwing arm.

Which was why it was not only surprising, but downright concerning, when Fear only slowly glanced up from his phone, face pale and eyes glassy and wide. He almost looked  _disinterested:_ his face was long, his mouth thin, expression effectively blank. Not even his hair rose slightly in curiosity, like it normally would.

 _What is he, deaf?_ Anger frowned, loath to repeat himself. "You heard me, Mr. Bean?"

 _There we go!_ He almost snickered when Fear puffed his cheeks out; he always hated being called that, an extension of that derisive nickname he was always teased with, "Beanpole".

"What'd I do this time?" he asked sardonically, fingers still running over the screen as his eyes bore into Anger's. "Did I accidentally  _breathe_  some of your air?"

Anger huffed. "I asked if you were gonna be on that thing all night," he said, jamming his hands into his coat pockets.

Fear looked down at his phone, and in a flash of rage Anger was ready to take the stupid thing and break it right there if the nerve hadn't frantically mended eye contact half a second later. "Oh..." Fear blinked, as though just returning to reality. His brows suddenly shot into the air. "Oh, I'm sorry, Anger! Sorry to be so rude. Amygdala, I thanked him for letting us use the recall tube."

Anger furrowed his thick brow.  _Bullshit._ "Yeah?"

"Yeah. But then we just got caught up in arranging our next meeting and, well," a rueful smile, "ugh, he wants me to come back after the party. Can you believe it? Apparently, the daily report I gave him was incomplete, and we have to compose a new one." He rubbed his eyes tiredly, a groan filled with distress and exhaustion resounding in his palm.

"Oh." Anger rose half his brow.  _Is he lying, or...?_  Late nights were a common occurrence for Fear and the Boss, so it could be true.

It just made him feel so  _alive._ Yelling was always therapeutic, long before Sadness lent him a couple hours a week she'd be spending in bed otherwise.  _Ah, do I love to hear myself yell._

Anger couldn't decide what to feel, and frankly, he didn't wish to dwell on the matter further; the Boss was a topic that always managed to piss him off. As with numerous times in the past manning the console beside Sadness, just as Riley would with her friends, not completely understanding their plight but lending sympathy regardless, Anger resorted to the default response of, "That sucks, man," and a clap on the elbow (his height forbade contact with Fear's shoulder).

Skinny shrugged guiltily. "Yeah, it's been exhausting these past few weeks, but what're you gonna do? Work is work, and, well," he let out with a grievous sigh, "we gotta do everything we can... for Riley."

Anger nodded, and even offered a reassuring grin. He could appreciate Fear's dedication to helping Riley. Way better than, and Anger had to purge the thought, lest he  _really_ gets a fire going,  _Disgust_. "Always for her," he agreed.

Fear nodded back, smiling down on his friend as he pocketed the device into his waistcoat. "I can chat with the Boss later," he said in a conspiratorial whisper that Anger couldn't help but crack a grin at.

It was as Anger was about to turn and start walking towards Dream Productions that Princess Perfect yelled in her whiny, bossy twang, "Come  _on,_  people! We haven't got all night, let's get this show on the road!" She already stood five paces ahead of them, one hip stuck out (the side with the leg slit, of course, because why shouldn't she show off?), hand on said hip and her foot tapping impatiently. Her shawl practically glowed from the dazzle of Dream Productions filtering through.

"You don't gotta wait for us, Princess!" Anger yelled back as he began his march, Fear at his side.

With a roll of her eyes, Disgust whirled around and started walking. " _You're_  my entourage, dummy!" she yelled into the sky, lacking the respect to even look back over her shoulder.

"What in Riley's name is she wearing?" Fear muttered beside him. Anger looked up at him as they walked, and was met with confusion written all over Fear's face, in his slightly-parted lips, and the single brow hovering above his head.

Anger followed his gaze and almost barked out laughing; that stupid dress Disgust had on waved with the exaggerated swing of her hips. It was almost obscene. "I told her it was too much," he admitted.

Fear stared for a couple seconds longer before shaking his head, then quickened his pace, as did Anger, both of them not wanting to behold the sight any longer.  _I may not be her father, but I'll be damned if I let her wear something like this again to Riley's college graduation. Or marriage. Whichever comes first._

Glancing to either side, Anger realized they were missing two heads. "I'll send ya a postcard!" he yelled over his shoulder. It wasn't angry, but his throat still tingled pleasingly.

"Oh my gosh, what are we still doing out here?!" Joy yelled in shock. "Sorry Sadness, we'll finish this talk later.  _Let's go party!_ "

Joy appeared cartwheeling into a stop beside Disgust, followed moments later by Sadness on speedy little footsteps. Disgust gave each of the late arrivals a thin smile, which Joy returned in magnitude triple the size. "This is our night, people!" the green Emote proclaimed.

Anger slowed his pace for a moment to take a gander. In spite of the incident back home, he had to acknowledge Disgust's mastery of the sewing needle; the ladies were downright gorgeous.  _At least she was doing something useful with her time instead of lying splayed across my sofa, eating potato chips._

He didn't get to actually  _look_ at Joy after she did her little "how do I look?" twirl after exiting her bedroom, wherein he only offered up a grunt of approval, only glancing briefly from his paper, to satisfy her. She was a veritable starburst, her earrings of said phenomenon twinkling like twin stars wherever she jerked her head, and the flouncy material of her gown was such a sharp orange that it literally gleamed like fires in the light of a falling sun. Anger chuckled a little as he watched Sadness try more than a few times to lace her fingers with Joy's, but it seemed that whenever she got close enough, Joy would twirl around in wonder or do a cartwheel.

Anger fell in beside her. She looked over and smiled sweetly at his approach. "So what was Gold n' Gruesome yapping about?" he asked, despite instantly knowing the answer before Sadness even opened her mouth.

How? She was still smiling. "Nothing," she simply said, shrugging her blue shoulders.

Anger playfully narrowed his eyes. "That was a whole lotta nothin' she was talking about."

"I just asked how she was," Sadness assured him. "After that, she just... went on talking about how happy she was, and how great tonight's gonna be." A sound that may or may not have been a giggle pattered gently in her throat. Anger was amazed he could hear it over all the noise ahead. "She got so wrapped up in explaining her joy that she forgot to actually start  _going_  to the party. That's so like her, but also," her brows knitted slightly, " _unlike_ her, you know?"

Both of them looked over to their left, where Joy bounced and skipped like she were eleven years old again, only ever breaking rhythm to twirl blithely on her bare toes. A smile of pure jubilance dominated her features, and Anger was willing to be money that she was humming along with the music blaring over the speakers propped over the front gate.

"She's certainly happy to be here," he observed.

"Yeah." Sadness's voice suddenly sounded distant, as though half of her was lost in some memory. "She likes telling me when she's in a really good mood," she told him moments later.

"Is that so?"

Sadness nodded. She gave what Anger could only describe as a weary smile, but almost all of Sadness's smiles could be described as such. "It's... tiring, to always hear her, but I'm glad. She's been taking every development in Riley's life in stride. I'm happy the two of them are excited for college."

Anger nodded quietly in agreement.

"And I'm also so, so happy for you, Anger."

He never fought so hard not to express what he truly wanted to do in that moment: roll his eyes and stomp away. He couldn't do that, not to Sadness. So he just stared straight ahead and kept marching. "Are you really?" he asked lightly, just to keep it from getting awkward.

Sadness gave a tiny nod. "You've gotten really good at controlling your outbursts," Anger's heart clenched, "and you just seem so much happier now because of it. I'm really, I'm..." For the second time in his life in the span of two minutes, he heard her giggling. "I'm so happy I was able to help you, Anger."

She took his hand in her's.

Anger wanted to spit in it, just so she wouldn't be happy with him any more. He berated himself at the turn of a second for thinking such a horrible thing. But what could he do? Anger panicked inside, without thought turned an gave her the biggest, bullshittiest smile he could muster. She ate it up without question. Anger never thought a grin from Sadness could make him feel so horrible, yet it did almost every single day.

After that, the two lapsed into a silence. Not an awkward one, where there isn't much to say, but a comfortable kind, one where only two friends could relax in each other's presence without need for talk. It was comfortable for Sadness, at least, as she gradually released his hand and let it fall to his side, and her grin reduced to a content smile.

Anger was still considering whether or not to scream and charge ahead. He was still feeling her hand wrapped around his own. Quickly though, he found himself bombarded without distraction from the absolute  _hellhole_ that lied ahead.

Anger was certain he was the only one grimacing at the increasingly annoying clamor plaguing Dream Productions, the closer they neared the arched threshold. At the far left of the group, he shot a quick glance in their direction to see. Sure enough, they were all cooing and grinning at all of the breathtaking sights and sheer volume of gussied-up mind workers. Dozens of spotlights thrust into the air, swaying about, turning the sky purple and gold and giving the studios that Olympian-bronze shine. It made everything look delectable and pristine. The Emotions weaved through the crowds, practically holding hands so they wouldn't get lost in the flood of jellybean bodies. Voices belonging to hundreds enveloped them, shouts to friends across the studio lots, laughter that was thunderous and others shrieking.

The urge to scream and barrel through it all beguiled Anger, but he couldn't do that. Never again, like this. So he grabbed Sadness by the hand, and she offered up the sweetest of smiles. Determined, Anger clenched his teeth and kept marching.

He and Riley despised New York City for this crap.

While on most nights the movie-esque studio complex was bustling with the activity of actors, writers, directors, and prop designers, all scurrying to get where they needed to be for the graveyard shift, tonight the Main Street _suffocated_ with every conscious being that served some form of a purpose in Riley Andersen's mind. Amidst the rapids of jellybean bodies, all moving towards the celebration's locale, Anger could spot Imagination inhabitants peppered throughout: cloud people, tree people, witches and zombies, specters and wraiths, even a dog-sized dragon with a top hat flew overhead on rhythmic beats of its wide, red wings. Anger smiled, forgetting the bodies brushing against him for just a moment as he realized that his girl still loved her fantasy stories. He briefly wondered if they would run into any of the "future Rileys" that she dreamed into existence during one of her sleep sessions in class.

Before long they were deep enough into Dream Productions where, while still packed and loud and annoying, the Emotions at least didn't need to fight their way through and could actually breathe. The studios were squat little warehouses now, yielding space for everybody to spread out and reform their personal bubbles.

Fear smoothed out his waistcoat, shivering. "That... was unpleasant," he stammered, feeling around to make sure he still had all his parts.

Anger shuddered, all those people touching him even though there was no one near him. He was sure Disgust was feeling the same, yet when he looked over she was already pacing down the street without them. He ought to be mad, but, frankly, it would be best if the prissy little Emote was out of his sight for the rest of the evening.

"I never thought there could be  _so many_ people in one place!" gushed Joy, her orange skirts flouncing, undeterred by being practically molested by half of Riley's mindscape. "Look at how well-dressed they are! And listen! You can just  _hear_  the excitement of this place, it's amazing!"

Anger didn't know how his teammates responded to Joy's zeal, their surroundings were so deafening, though he had no illusions that they responded with something other than the usual awkward silence. His attention was drawn back to the headache surrounding him, all of these gabbing fools swaddled in silk and dressed like penguins. Their chatter was loud and pointless, and so many were speaking at once, each talking louder than the group nearby as if one was purposely trying to out-yell the other. He consciously pulled at the collar of his dress shirt, huffing deeply. He ignored the pain in his stomach, painful as it was.

He couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. Mind workers were still yapping, inconsiderate morons, but in surplus. And Dream Productions was still Dream Productions: glamour and bling crusted over the ugly business of nightmare creation and miserable wet dreams. The amount of times Anger had to wake Riley up from one of those rivaled Fear in the early days, before their girl lost control of her own bodily urges.

 _Riley isn't about that trash,_ Anger quietly fumed. His stomach burned but he smothered it with a count of ten. Small stuff, easy as pie.  _She isn't, yet the big cheese around here doesn't give a damn. They just want to squirt out a quick couple films every night._ It reminded him too much of the despicable business that was Hollywood, a hatred he and Riley both shared. But Hollywood was a massive corporation run by billions of faceless men in suits, and any  _real_ attempt to change things would either be doused by Fear, or end with Riley's incarceration.

Dream Productions was just a shit stain in the mind of an eighteen-year-old girl, and Anger basically had immunity. "I mean, brain cells are a dime a dozen, but where are ya gonna find another Anger?" he always reasoned.

But try as he might, and oh, did Anger try, no amount of "friendly visits" to Dream Productions seemed to change their ways, and the supply of backup cameras these people had appeared infinite, even after he burned down that warehouse back in eighth grade. In the end, he learned that there's some things that screaming and violence just couldn't solve.

That definitely rang true for one, crippling aspect of Anger's life that he had to deal with every day.

Being one of the shortest inhabitants in Riley's mind led to many inconveniences that just brought Anger's particles to a searing fizzle. There was nothing more humiliating, or frustrating, than being unable to fetch a mind manual on a shelf that even Sadness or Disgust could reach if they stood on her tiptoes. Or Fear, the lofty beanpole, all too often he'd grow lax and become careless of his surroundings, usually mistaking Anger for something to lean an elbow on like he were some piece of furniture (Fear had gone through many sweater-vests over the years because of that). And there was no greater sleight than when Joy, in a burst of pure ecstasy, would disrespect Anger and actually pick him up and dance around, humming loudly over his screams of protest. Then she would giggle at the bonfire snarling atop his head and pat out the embers.  _Insulting_.

Tonight though, Anger's size proved more an annoying inconvenience than inadvertent humiliation from his coworkers. He could barely see their destination from beyond the shoulders of mind workers. Incidentally, Anger was stuck glaring holes into the jackets, dresses, and asses of a couple hundred brain cells from here to there. Even worse, those in front of the strolling Emotions would turn to the sound of Joy saying, "Excuse me!" and gasp a little after realizing who they were. They would stand aside, parting for them a path like Moses at the Red Sea. At least they wouldn't have to weave through the crowds and move at the speed of thawed honey like everybody else.

It pays to be a VIP, Anger thought. It was certainly pleasant. But what was unpleasant were the  _stares._ He felt the weight of them, ogling them as they passed by, heard the whispers of "Riley's Emotions" and "those guys are from the  _top"_. It was bad enough that they stood out like sore thumbs in this ocean of cool-green, but the lavish outfits of his female coworkers just made the asymmetry that much more obvious.

_All the more reason why we should get to the stupid party._

But it wasn't long before the four Emotions, waited on by a condescending Disgust, found themselves gawking up at the towering party site.

The "excitement" that Joy heard earlier was a familiar tune rumbling deep from the tower at the far end of Dream Productions: Hypothalamus Heights, a leering monstrosity presiding over all the filming studios and warehouses, whose profile appropriately matched that of a Hollywood big-shot's penthouse, gaudy and flashy and without much substance. It wasn't cozy, but it was a place for a party, though it did serve as a living complex for the Dream Workers. Tonight, however, it was the stage for a celebration of Riley's successful and relatively healthy childhood.

Their leader stepped forward, a determined look on her face but mirth twinkling in her giant blue eyes. "Come on, Emotes!" she cheered, pumping a fist in the air. "Let's get this party started!"

They wordlessly followed Joy inside.

* * *

It was outside with a ceiling. That's how Anger saw it.

The party floor couldn't have been larger than a proper football field, and even still Anger felt claustrophobic. Leather sofas and recliners were clustered at every corner, or at random points across the floor, surely set up with no real order in mind. Not that it mattered; everywhere he looked, there were groups of mind workers and a few imaginations sharing the space, chatting excitedly amongst their cliques over electric blue drinks and bowls of snacks.

Where they weren't sitting, they were standing, doing much of the same or part of the singular, throbbing mass in the center of the room that bounced to the heavy thump of music pounding against the walls. Strobe lights flashed, beams of colors zipped spastically across the walls in the colors of red and gold, green, purple and blue. Enormous flatscreens covered every wall, showing a highlight reel of key moments in Riley's childhood, such as the joyful time she made a goal in her first Prairie Dogs game, her first Foghorns game tinted violet, a gold-purple haze when getting accepted into her university and, from today, graduating under a blazing golden backdrop. Some of them, though, were completely random, like a fearful memory where Riley was playing a video game and was startled by a manta ray swimming past her screen, or a sad time when she accidentally stepped on a butterfly while visiting a walk-through sanctuary.

This led Anger to believe that the mind workers tasked with assembling these just got lazy near the end.

It was as he opened his mouth to point out this fallacy, that over half the room turned to the five that just entered, and let out with a startling uproar of cheer and applause. The Emotions all blanched to the wave of sound hitting them, and only a few of the cries close by were even vaguely discernible:

"You guys!" they heard someone yell. " _You guys rock!_ "

"They're from the  _top!_ "

"You guys remember that time when Riley-?"

"HAIL TO THE KINGS! HAIL TO THE QUEENS!"

"None of this would be possible without you five!"

And then a much louder voice, coming from somewhere in the back:  _"LET'S HEAR IT FOR RILEY'S EMOTIONS EVERYBODY!_ Hip-hip!"

"Huzzah!"

" _Hip-hip!_ "

_"Huzzah!"_

_"HIP-HIP!"_

_"HUZZAH!"_

Anger winced, their ovations were so thunderous.  _I'm surprised Riley hasn't been woken up yet._ He tugged hard at his collar.

Joy, of course, was loving it. She waved her arm high above her head to the masses in her typically animated fashion. "Hi, everybody!" she cheered.

Sadness offered a much more subdued gesture in turn, as did Fear. Disgust merely flipped her hair and grinned smugly at them all. Anger grimaced. His head felt like someone beat it flat with a mallet. Wordlessly, he marched forward, the first break away from his coworkers.

"Wait, Anger-" He felt a tug on his jacket sleeve.

Anger glared over his shoulder to find Sadness, staring at him with deer-in-the-headlight eyes. The look alone was enough to subdue his annoyance. "What is it?"

But Sadness began stammering, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to speak without saying any words.  _What's her deal?_ "Don't you want to stick around a little?" she suddenly asked. "I mean, w-we, everybody's glad to see us. M-Maybe they want to talk to us a little?"

Waves of cheer and applause continued to beat down and wash over him. "They can find me themselves." Anger yanked his jacket out of her grasp, but then Sadness just lunged forward and grabbed him by the wrist, insistent as a ghost.  _Stop touching me,_ he wanted to growl.

But Sadness is Sadness and she never deserved that.

"We should stick together," she uttered quickly. She glanced around. "I mean, this is a big place, right?"

"When did you become  _Fear_  all of a sudden?"He wanted to snicker, Anger wanted to find amusement in Sadness's naivety, but his head pounded from the noise and everything underneath his dress shirt felt like a veritable sauna ready to burst at the seams.  _Cool air, fresh air._ _Away from here, away from her._ His thoughts were frantic, but he managed to collect himself just enough to explain, "Kid, Fear's already gone, and I saw Joy cartwheeling into the dance floor. Disgust is probably rubbing her ass on some unlucky mind worker." He forced a chuckle, though it did little to alleviate the burn in his gut.

"Wait, really?" Sadness looked around, noticing that all of their coworkers have indeed split up. "They're already gone?"

 _Gah, what's her problem!?_ Sadness's childish empathy and sudden clinginess only worsened Anger's despair, and made it all the more impossible to keep his cool right there in front of her. The last thing he wanted was to blow up in her face, in front of all of Riley's mind world no less.

He channeled some aggression into whirling around, pulling his hand free in the process, and he gave his friend a hard look. "Kid, it's a party! Go and meet new people! These guys?" He gestured a thumb to the masses behind him. "They're the only other people we'll get to talk to that don't have the mugs of our color-coded posse. You hearin' me? Relish this night! We won't get another like this soon, you know?"

He supposed she did, though, for some reason, Sadness became very paled by his words. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it at once and nodded quietly, much to Anger's relief. He felt compelled to ask her what was wrong, but...

* * *

_Shit, shit, SHIT!_

His head might as well have been shoved in water. In fact, in his sanity burning away and mind clouding with ashen smoke, Anger wished someone would, just to put a swift end to this insufferable torture.

_"And I'm also so, so happy for you, Anger."_

He breathed hard. Exhale. Exhale. Breathe in. Exhale. Breathe in.  _Do they have apple bobbing?_  he wondered in one second of madness, then the next,  _Where's the exit?_

He wove and pushed, uncaring if he knocked over Riley herself, as insane and unlikely such a scenario was. What was sound anyway?

The yelps of those he shoved past?

The music blaring overhead?

The laughter?

The chatter?

_"You've gotten really good at controlling your outbursts..."_

The fire roaring in his head, screaming, bellowing, rattling its cage to be let out?

It was noise, just stupid, pointless, nonsense  _noise._

And this shirt, he wanted to rip it off. Be  _free_. He needed to breathe.  _Breathe_. No, no. That would bring up questions. Questions led to finding out. He couldn't be found out. Not like this. Not for Sadness, she'd be so disappointed in him.

 _Air_. He just needed air. Fresh air, air from outside, not in here, stuffy and fake and full of a million different perfumes.  _Why am I getting so mad over this crap?_ he wondered lightly, as if pondering the weather for the day. These random episodes of baseless outrage seemed to be cropping up faster than weeds nowadays, as if in response to Sadness's efforts to control them.

_"And you just seem so much happier now because of it. I'm really, I'm..."_

It didn't matter. Closer and closer, the exit door grew larger in his sight until its cobalt blue filled his entire vision. Some mind worker saw him and stepped out of the way. Only out of the corner of his eye did Anger see the terror in this man's face. He'd better not talk.

Anger forgot about him half a heartbeat later, as cold air punched him sharply and offered relief to the sweat-stained dress shirt cloying to his body. He breathed deep.  _Outside._ Exhale.  _I'm outside._

He could feel it, the pressure. Up his stomach, up his throat. He could feel the pressure burning behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut, grit his horrible teeth hard. Fear told him not to do that; what did the beanpole know?! Was the door closed? He didn't care. He was outside, and no one he cared about could see him.

The pressure rose, and rose. It hurt like hell, it hurt like  _fire._ For one, last, moment, Anger looked back on Sadness's words, with a chest full of fire and damp with regret:

_Giggling. It was so sweet and delicate. "I'm so happy I was able to help you, Anger."_

A savage, monstrous roar rattled down the alley and back, deep into the forlorn night settled above Dream Productions as an inferno cut into the gloom, a dagger blazing fresh from the forge hundreds of feet tall, with the fury to match that of a raging dragon.

Anger screamed. He roared. He kicked the wall and stomped his feet. He grabbed at his collar and tore at it until the top button pulled loose and his tie was a heap on the floor, the red "A" clipped on tinkling when it hit the pavement.

It felt like an eternity of suffering before his throat was too raw to scream any more, and his belly hollow of feeling. The flames fizzled into a smoking ruin amidst the ember cracks breaking open upon his skull, already beginning the relatively painless process of closing again. Anger felt himself begin to fall, and stuck out one hand to catch himself upon the cool brick wall of Hypothalamus Heights.

He panted and gasped, staring bug-eyed at the ground between his shoes. "Shit," he breathed, still reeling. "God... damn it all..." He squeeze his eyes shut, shame spreading through his chest.  _I'm sorry, kid..._

"So how long's it been since you had one of those?" purred a voice.

Anger brought his gaze up, only to let it drop the instant he remembered who that unmistakable mischievous inflection belonged to.

He used his free hand to give him the finger. "Eat shit, Moriarty." His voice was weak and hoarse. "I think Disgust wanted to see you."

"Oh-hoh!" A light titter. "Dear Disgust actually  _wants_ to see me?"

Anger wanted to give a threatening growl, disinterested in these games the ratty little cretin liked to play, but he just felt completely drained. "Look Mor," he sighed, "it ain't a matter of 'want', it never friggin' is. I've spent eighteen years looking through the eyes of the best kid on the planet but half the stuff I've seen I never actually 'wanted' to, while there's still so much that  _I '_ want' to see that I haven't yet. Point is, shut up. Disgust doesn't 'want' to see you, but she needs to. So go in, find her, and leave me the _hell alone_." He paused. "And if you breathe a word of this to anybody..."

"You'll what?" Moriarty playfully inquired. "What price is my silence? A date with Sadness, perhaps? An overnight with Joy? Will you let me cook popcorn atop that lovely hot plate you call a head, mayhaps?"

All words made to get a rise out of him. Yet, Anger felt numb to every single one. He finally had the energy to lift his head, and meet Moriarty in the eye. "How does all your teeth sound?"

Moriarty, just like Bing Bong, Rainbow Unicorn, and several others, appeared just as he did the day Riley imagined him. He was technically four, but his face was that of a humanoid creature in his thirties, with a top hat shading his yellow eyes, but leaving his ever-present sneer exposed to the sunlight. The patchy longcoat he often wore was an exquisite dark leather, which twirled behind him without ever uttering a sound, perfect for sneaking up on people. His trousers were gilded in a number of silver and gold trinkets, with little pouches tied around his thighs and ankles for carrying an assortment of surprises and gifts. When sized with the other Emotions, he stood a head taller than Joy, making him a giant in Anger's eyes.

Moriarty was dreamed into existence by Riley when she was fourteen, and well-into her fantasy craze after reading  _The_ _Lord of the Rings_ and becoming infatuated, as many teenage girls did, with a dark and mysterious antihero that had a heart of gold. It made Anger gag to recall. Thus, it was why they were plagued with the existence of Moriarty. He starred in a couple dreams in the early days, and now resided in Hypothalamus Heights, Imagination Land, Long Term or even the Memory Dump, depending on who you asked.

Though the imagination found his place in recent years as a gatherer of sorts for the Emotions, bringing them special foods, materials, games, and a constant supply of makeup for Disgust in return for, what he calls, "a jovial gathering," which usually amounted to lying around Headquarters for a couple hours before slinking back to his nightly escapades.

It was no surprise that he made Fear uneasy; he often called him "mad" and "literally insane." There was some truth to that; many times Moriarty's sanity came into question with just how random and unpredictable he could be. In one instance, when it first became realized that Moriarty wasn't  _like_  the other imaginations, he was babbling away with Joy as she and her coworkers were trying to focus on getting Riley through a test, running back and forth pulling memories that held the answers for her. Some were missing, and Fear was freaking out. Sadness was trying to calm him down. Nobody was really paying any attention to Moriarty.

That is, until, he casually announced, "Oh, I saw that merry goofball, Bing Bong the other day. He said, 'Take her to the moon for me.' Do you happen to know what that means?"

The Emotions all stopped what they were doing to look at him. You could hear a pin drop. He was lying, of course, they all knew that. Their imaginary friend perished in the Memory Dump to save Joy's life; there was no escape from that horrible pit (unless you're Moriarty). But Bing Bong hasn't even been mentioned by name since the Incident, and, even more chillingly, there was no way he could've known the dear friend's last words.

Sadness and especially Joy were just staring at him, horrified, utterly speechless. Joy had to step away from the console, both hands placed over her mouth.

Moriarty chuckled darkly. "There," he said, "now  _that_  got your attention."

But Anger was positive Moriarty would never do anything to actively harm them. He was just a righteous pain in the ass. He at least had the decency to never try and top that last remark. Otherwise, he'd be ancient history. Anger would see to that personally, and perhaps Moriarty knew that too.

"And what would I say to sweet little Sadness when she sees me drinking my meals through a straw?" The man smiled wide, each of his teeth yellowed and rotting, in reference to his "medieval" background.

Anger turned and sat back against the wall, sighing as he slowly slid down its length and sat on the alley ground. In no time guilt and shame riddled every particle in his speckled body like a virus. It made him sick to his stomach, despite it being cold as a dead furnace. "Just get out of here, you little cretin. I'm not in the mood."

"Clearly. And that seems to be just the problem." He took a seat beside Anger, bending over briefly to brush the spot off with a gloved hand before lowering his butt there. He folded his knees into his chest. "I take it the lessons aren't going well?"

Anger's stare hardened, burning holes into the sandy brick across the alley.  _Get out of here, freak._  He couldn't exactly go anywhere, not like this, but at the same time he could do nothing to push Moriarty away; the man went where he wanted.

The dark-clad imagination seemed to take silence as answer. "You don't want to hurt the child, I understand that," he assumed, correctly, but assumed regardless. "Why, I ask, is it worth to keep the lie going, when even an outsider like  _mwah_  can tell you that Sadness will respect and appreciate the truth more than the inevitable discovery that you're running with a lie?"

Anger let out a humorless laugh. "You don't know her. You have no idea how... how..."  _Disappointed she'd be._ But he couldn't bear to say the words.

Moriarty understood though, and shrugged plainly. "Eh, probably not. Probably. I'm just trying to wrap my head around your mentality behind this, the very  _clear_ torture it was to finally let all that out."

"They made me better," Anger told him, almost robotic in his inflection. "Riley doesn't get mad over stupid stuff anymore. It's perfect for her."

Moriarty snickered. "Ah, yes. A valiant sacrifice of time at the controls. The same noble pledge made by our dear friend, Disgust, if I'm not mistaken?"

Anger shifted his eyes over to him, where Moriarty had a thin smile on. "Disgust," he spat the name off his tongue. "Don't compare me to her, alright? She got  _lazy._ With Sadness, she made it so that I don't make Riley flip out over every little thing. It's made her more mature, hear me?"

"Hmph. 'Mature' you say, indeed."  _Why does he find that funny?_  "And you?"

"I have it under control," he assured him, though he didn't know why he felt the need to.

Moriarty eyed him from under the brim of his hat. For what felt like an infinity he stared, perhaps to try and make Anger uncomfortable. In truth, the trickster was the very last thing on the red Emotion's mind.

"As you insist," he allowed, apparently bored with waiting. Moriarty stood, brushed gravel off the back of his coat and strode to the door on silent footfalls. "Good luck with the anger management, my little friend. I'll give Disgust my regards," he said, tittering lightly. Moriarty slipped back into the party as a shadow would, quiet and invisible.

A sense of loneliness began to creep over Anger's shoulders. He turned to the right, to the plank fence he found Moriarty leaning against. No one was there, no towering man in black ready to snicker at him lurking in the shadows. He turned to the left, down the alley. No one was there; it was an eerie locale, with orange lights dimly humming, ready to burst at any moment. No sane person would want to be out here, when there was a party in there.

Anger sighed; he was alone. In silence. Relative silence, at least; the ungodly music thumping and thumping against the walls might as well have been clear as day. But that wasn't a terrible thing. It gave Anger nothing to fear as he grabbed the sides of his head and screamed.

"YES!" Anger roared, his eyes burning. "Everything everywhere still pisses me off to no end; these people, my coworkers, this puddle of shit I'm trapped in and especially  _your sneering mug! Do you get it now, you freak!?_ _"_ Fires leaped from Anger's skull as he raged, throwing shadows across the alleyway that vanished the moment they appeared.

He was nothing if not a fair Emotion. If somebody wronged Riley, there would be hell to pay, as numerous red memories of fistfights and split lips could testify. But who was there to smack his wrists when he was the one being unfair?

"It ain't  _fair,"_ Anger fumed. What wasn't fair? This situation? That poor kid he was jerking around? Anger couldn't articulate or organize his thoughts, his rage, as it often did, blinded him so. Not even Sadness would be able to calm him down if she came out right there.

As soon as it crossed his mind the gutwrenching scenario played through his mind before he could stop it; he thought of Sadness, her stepping through that exit door after seeing him barreling through the party, seeing him screaming and burning out here. The true horror of these images came when she tried to stop him, wrapping her arms and pulling her friend into a tight hug to try and squeeze all the anger and pain out of him, only to result in getting herself burned by his own flames.

"No," Anger muttered.

His stomach hurt from burning so much. Quickly however, the thoughts of Sadness and the feelings he got from that imaginary scenario doused his kiln of a gut with a feeling of guilt. It was the same guilt he felt whenever she looked at him, whenever she smiled at him, when she giggled tonight and said how proud she was of him.

The guilt soothed his flames. It kept his anger in check, even though Sadness's lessons failed. In a way, she was still helping him. It was basically the same thing. What the hell did Moriarty know? Anger told him he had it under control, there was a system.

And as Anger pushed himself up, brushing the gravel sticking to the back of his pants, he realized how lighter his stomach felt after getting all that out. It's been weeks since he last erupted; to do it so infrequently only made the episodes more visceral and relieving. He cracked a weary smile.

"Alright." Anger scooped his tie up off the floor, and began the process he went through every morning anyway of tying it around his neck.

* * *

**This, too, took forever to write. All day almost. I'm really glad how it turned out, it was a long one indeed. This might be my favorite yet. Please, leave your honest thoughts in a review below, I appreciate every word I get.**

**As for Moriarty, he is just a character I invented for this story. I wanted a larger cast of characters for the Emotions to interact with at this party, since the only ones from the film are those two Forgetters and Rainbow Unicorn. He's not going to play a large role, or even a frequent one.**

**Next up is Joy.**


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